


Caught

by TheRedheadinQuestion



Series: VegLock [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedheadinQuestion/pseuds/TheRedheadinQuestion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Greg have figured out Sherlock & Mycroft’s little shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caught

Sherlock finished rinsing his hair and turned off the water.  He reached for a towel and froze.  Something was different.  Even in the lav, with the door shut, he could sense it.  The air was thicker, judgmental and contained the barest scent of ginger and green tea.  He silently groaned.  Mycroft.  Poncy ginger and green tea body wash, indeed. Would his brother  never learn that it was that very scent which gave away each and every one of his clandestine visits? 

Sherlock slowly dried off, then cleaned his teeth.  He took the time to brush each and every tooth individually.  Hopefully, by the time he finished, his brother will have tired and left of his own accord.

After Sherlock cycled through his entire grooming regimen --twice--he resigned himself to his fate.  He didn't bother with pyjama pants and tied his dressing gown loosely over his naked body.  If a long bathroom ritual didn't shorten his brother's visit, perhaps the threat of familial nudity would.  Sherlock abandoned the safety of the lavatory and swept into the sitting room.  There, in his chair, sat Mycroft. 

"Oh, do make yourself at home."

"Thank you."  Mycroft said, ignoring his brother's tone.  "Your hospitality is appreciated, as is your dedication to cleanliness."  He gestured to the tea service at his side.  "Shall I pour?"

"None for me, thanks."  Sherlock said.  He'd have to be dim-witted as Anderson to eat or drink anything prepared by Mycroft. 

Sherlock sat in John's chair and studied Mycroft from behind his steepled fingers.  "Come to spy on me again?"

"Not this time, brother dear."

"Whatever case you've got, I'm far too busy."

"On the contrary; I suspect you’re rather bored.” Mycroft crossed his right leg over his left and sipped his tea.  “However, that's not what brings me to your humble abode today. Gregory asked me to meet him here, though  he would not say why."

"Asked _you_ here?"  Sherlock furrowed his brow. "Why would he ask you to my flat?  Oh, I see."  He smiled a Cheshire grin.  "This is his delicate way of telling you to move out.  In which case, we've no room for you.  Try Anthea."

"Sherlock, your sense of humour is just as delightful as your social skills."  Mycroft smiled.  "Rest assured, my relationship with Gregory is secure and without doubt."

Sherlock made a face at Mycroft, who calmly regarded Sherlock over his teacup.  The two brothers quietly deduced each other for several long moments.

“Did you win your wager with Dr. Watson?” 

"Wager?" 

"Wasn't a wager the reason for your shepherd's pie?"

"Of course it was, and it goes without saying that I won."  Sherlock waved his hand dismissively.  "Did you manage to recreate the dish for Lestrade without summoning the fire brigade?”

“Easily.”

The silence grew until two sets of feet stomped up the stairs.  John and Greg stepped into the room and Mycroft rose to greet his boyfriend.

"Gregory, surely whatever..."

"Sit. "  Greg sidestepped Mycroft and shook his head. 

Mycroft lowered himself back into the chair.  "Really, now-"

"Shut it."  Greg said.

"You too."  John said as he glared at Sherlock.

"I didn't say anything."  Sherlock protested.  "Obvi--"

"You were about to."

John and Greg stood just inside doorway, arms crossed, and scowled at their respective mates.  The Holmes men glanced at each other and gradually began to fidget.

"We know."  John finally broke the silence.

"About?"  Sherlock asked. At John's glower, he pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down.

"About your little vegetable games."  Greg said.  "Both of you."

Sherlock looked  startled.  "Him?  What could he have possibly done?  I haven't eaten a thing he's prepared, or anything from our refrigerator, for that matter."

Greg rolled his eyes.  "Apparently he knew and arranged for surprises in your takeaway."

"You did _what_?"  Sherlock sprang from his chair and glowered at Mycroft.  "You dare taint our food with residue from your sick little--"

"And you?"  Mycroft stood and looked daggers at his brother.  " _Join us in lunch Mycroft_ .  _Come taste my shepherd's pie Mycroft_.  I've been equally tainted!"  He thundered.

 Sherlock grabbed his middle and leaned over. "I'm going to be ill."

 "My feeling precisely."  Mycroft muttered.

 "Look."  John said. "I don't care who did what to whom...."

 "He started it."  Sherlock and Mycroft said in unison, then glared at each other.

 "It doesn't bloody matter who started it."  John snapped.  "We're ending it!"

 Greg nodded at John.  "We're sick of this little feud.  So we're going away."

 "Ah..I'll need to check my schedule Gregory.  I'm not sure..."  Mycroft pulled his mobile from his inside jacket pocket and thumbed it on.

 "Not you."  Greg shook his head.  "You're not invited." 

 Sherlock crowed in glee. 

 "You're not coming either."  John told Sherlock.  That shut him up.  "Greg and I are going up north to watch a match.  We'll be back Sunday.  Maybe Monday.  Or perhaps we'll go sightseeing and come back whenever we feel like it." 

 "As for the pair of you,"  Greg continued,  "you will cease this childish, infernal vegetable war  immediately.  And if you ever.  EVER use our relationships in a twisted game of one-upmanship again...  Well, let's just say that certain things will become but a fond memory."

 "Absolutely."  John looked at Sherlock pointedly, then stepped into their bedroom and returned with his holdall.  "When I return,"  he said, "I expect the house clean, experiments cleared away and the fridge full of food.  _Edible_ food.  Never-inserted-into-a-human food."

 "The same goes for me."  Greg said, nodding at Mycroft.

 They walked to the door with their gear.  John turned around.

 "Oh, and by the way."  he began.  "The food you've been eating for the past day?  Yeah, we might have done something to it.  Just so ya know."  He threw both Holmes a cheeky grin, and they were off.  John and Greg laughed manically as they made their way down the stairs.  Sherlock and Mycroft stared after them.

 "They wouldn't.  They didn't."  Sherlock  looked at Mycroft.  "Did they?"


End file.
